Snow
by FluffleNeCharka
Summary: He tried to tell Master Fung he didn't like this, didn't like how the snow made his heart go cold. He was ignored until it was too late... The tale of how the last set of Dragons fell at the hands of one of their own. Master Fung centric, oneshot.


AN: I have no idea where this came from. But Master Fung is all but ignored in fanfic, so I thought I'd do my part to help change that. Even though I know this probably wraps canon a little, I simply HAD to write this. My mind would not let me rest peacefully otherwise. (It's about three thirty in the morning, here. So if you see typos, that'd be why.) Please review and tell me how I did, what you thought, and what I need to improve on.

I own nothing. Enjoy.

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The snow taught Kaseem Talid to be cruel.

Snow turned his expression grim, made his eyes distant and his voice without emotion. Snow made his attacks hit harder, his movements faster as he deseperately over compensated for his team mates. They handled snow worse than him, falling every three seconds over their own two feet and aiming badly due to 'poor visibility'. And while he might normally offer a sympathetic nod, in the snow he merely scowled, unable to believe such nonsense. The snow robbed him of his compassion, his helpful smile and encouraging words, until all that was left was a vicious intolerance. It made him cruel and cold as, well, snow and ice.

They couldn't complain about snow messing with their eyes. That, in particular, set him off and should have been the first major warning sign.

He was from Saudi Arabia and snow didn't slow him. His attacks hit just as well as they did back home, his speed was even better, and no one ever escaped Kaseem just because it happened to be snowing out. He hated being out in the snow, but if he had to, he might as well do his best to get this fight over with. Earth Dragons never cowered before a challenge, and he was no different, fighting through the blizzards he hated so much. He tried to tell Master Fung he didn't like this, didn't like how the snow made his heart go cold. He was ignored until it was too late. For some reason, that the snow made his teammate's complaints worthy of starting fights - something he did now but never before even thought of - did not cause Master Fung to raise an eyebrow. The attacks, the fights, the temper. Why? Why wasn't this caught sooner?

When people died from a boulder to their skull or a rock to their eyes, in the snow he didn't flinch. Their last breaths did not haunt him as they usually would. He didn't know what was wrong, only that it was so cold he no longer cared if he himself lived or died. Let Chase Young nearly end him. Whatever, life is only temporary anyway. It was just a chore everyone had to do, and he found himself taking risks so stupid that even Wen Jian, the Dragon of Wind (an elemnt known for bad ideas) would stop and stare. Maybe Wen realized it then, realized that a cold climate made for a homicidal, suicidal Kaseem, but Master Fung would not diminish their numbers by one due to _weather_, of all things. Looking back, Fung knows now the signs were all too clear; such a switch like reaction to weather was not something any experience Master would have taken so lightly. But he wasn't experienced back then. He was new.

And his newness robbed Kaseem of all peace.

Out of the snow, he lay awake at night, realizing what he thought, how he felt, what he did. There was shame, deeply rooted shame. Kaseem was horrified with the change, with the numbness and the acts he was capable of. He was a monster, and he hadn't even known it. What would his family say if they knew? Hours of prayer to Allah and hours spent quietly talking with Taquette, the Dragon of Water (water was known to have the same duality problem; they were a kindred of spirits) eased his conscious somewhat. He knew, though, that he had to stay away from his friends in the cold, or he'd risk hurting them. A part of his mind argued that was just silly, he'd never hurt his friends even in the deepest of snow. The rational part of his mind, though, wondered...

Maybe if he'd been in his homeland, things would have turned out differently. He could have talked to his father, his beloved cleric of a father who would have taken him aside, prayed with him, told him words harsh and to the point to make him understand. His father never did sugar coat things. Master Fung did, though; he ignored the problems, glossed them over as laziness. Maybe if Fung had been older, things would have gone differently. Perhaps if the Master had been a full Master, not a new sifu, Kaseem would not have been the first to fall. Or perhaps if Kaseem had been warmer, his mind would have functioned fully. Heck, in retrospect, even a sweater or a coat might've made him think twice about this whole thing. Even just taking the fight into a warm building would have stopped him at a critical moment.

But he was barefoot and in a sleeveless shirt, half buried in the snow, when Chase Young made the offer. His whole body screamed against the ice, his heart was running on empty and there was no compassion left. No morality. All he was, was a horrific combination of greed and cold hearted logic.

And so the Arabic Earth Dragon joined him.

When the news hit home, only Maria, the Fire Dragon, stood by Master Fung. The other two looked at him with expressions that screamed 'I told you so'. They said not a word, hanging their heads and sighing at him. And though Maria did not accuse him silently the way her fellow Dragons did, he could feel in her slightly shaking hands that she was disappointed. That night was silent for the three Dragons as they carefully avoided looking at Kaseem's corner of the room. Only Dojo touched the Earth Dragon's belongings. A tender stroke of the Arabic prayer, engraved in a stone tablet, and then Dojo broke loose with the insults.

"You HAD to let him out into the snow, didn't you?!"

Master Fung merely sighed at the time, not knowing the horrors yet to come.

Master Fung has spent many a hour trying to erase the memories of the attack. Regardless, the details are etched into his brain beyond the point of erasing. The way the wall hissed as it turned into sand at a all too familiar touch, the near silent, barefooted footsteps. For a second, the hope that Kaseem had changed his mind...

All hell breaking loose. Screams. Blood on sand.

In mere minutes, Maria, Taquette and Wen lay dead at Master Fung's feet.

And as it began to snow outside, the Chinese mountside's winter wrapping around them, the eyes of Dragon and Master met. His eyes were glowing blue instead of their normal steel grey, but there was no warmth in them. He was as cold as the snow flakes floating downward onto his white hair. It was horrifying to see blood splashed across his former student, and not see the tiniest hint of regret. A sense of blame slammed into Master Fung as Kaseem bowed, his expression unreadble, and then left without a hint of urgency. If Master Fung had been wiser, he'd have chased after him, called someone to help, taken the fallen Dragon down.

But he was merely a fool, and so he began to cry.

The bodies of the Dragons lay scattered around him. Maria's normally expressive face was rendered expressionless, Taquette's smile was replaced in death with a frown, and Wen... Actually, Wen looked just as much annoyed as he normally did. Only there would be no smart aleck remarks from him now. None of them were ever going to get to laugh or run again. The Shen Gon Wu missing did not matter. Those were replacable, with time and effort.

And new Dragons.

It would take new Dragons to fight the forces of evil. It would take four new, inexperienced children to fight the evils of the world this time. Just like before, they would be totally reliant on him. They would have no idea the price the riches Chase Young offered would come at. He was only thing standing between them and the Heylin.

He would not fail the next group of Dragons. No matter how strict or overly cautious he was, it was better to err on the side of caution.

The snow had taught him that.


End file.
